The Boy From Chino
by Caroline
Summary: S1 AU; Rysten. Ryan had made a life for himself in Chino. And only once in awhile did his brief stint in Newport cross his mind, seeming like a far-off dream. The people he met once upon a time, were now just figments of his imagination. So he was hardly prepared for one of those figments from that dream-world to come crashing back into his life in full, technicolor reality.
1. Prologue: The Figments

TITLE: The Boy From Chino  
**PROLOGUE: The Figments**

* * *

In a way, he was glad that he hadn't moved to Newport. His brief stint there had been like living on another planet. There was so much excess and extravagance. The girls were superficial, the guys were idiotic jocks, and the wives were borderline Stepford. Even his brief incarceration seemed humdrum after his time in Orange County.

Luckily, the Cohens hadn't pressed charges. Well... Mrs. Cohen, specifically. Kirsten, the Queen of the Manor. After a few days, they released him and to his surprise, his mother had shown up, shedding tears of remorse and calling him her baby. Ryan had been too stunned at the time to ask why she had all but abandoned him just weeks before and suddenly she was ready to play the rescuer.

She had turned over a new leaf. Or so she had said, but Ryan didn't believe it at the time. She had ditched the abusive boyfriend and, apparently, the alcohol that went along with him.

The first few weeks he lived with her again had been awkward, a little fraught with tension as Ryan kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and Dawn became exasperated by her son's low expectations. But after awhile, things had smoothed over. They had re-learned how to deal with one another, and were actually able to develop a very amicable relationship.

Dawn worked hard seven days a week, building up her life again. There was the occasional bad influence in the form of a new boyfriend, but those relationships often ended as quickly as they had begun, for which Ryan was thankful. Trey was released from prison a year later and the three of them were a family again.

Once Trey was out, he began to help Dawn form plans to buy the bar she was currently managing. Ryan, only sixteen at the time, had helped with stock and cleanup, but other than that it had been Trey and Dawn's undertaking. He had been skeptical of his mother owning a bar as a recovering alcoholic, but she never faltered. Never even had a brief backslide into her old habits.

And now at the age of 21, Ryan was the favored bartender. His smile drew in the pretty college girls, his laid-back nature posed no threat to the young men trying to get the attention of the college girls, and his listening skills made him the perfect ear to bend for the older, weathered patrons.

He had made a life for himself in Chino. And only once in awhile did his brief stint in Newport cross his mind, seeming like a far-off dream. The people he met once upon a time, were now just figments of his imagination.

So he was hardly prepared for one of those figments from that dream-world to come crashing back into his life in full, technicolor reality.

"Hey Ry." His mother beckoned his attention as he was drying some of the glassware.

"Hmm?" He glanced up, slinging the towel over his shoulder, finding Dawn's eyes focused on something or someone at the other end of the bar.

She gestured with her chin. "I think that lady at the end there has had enough. Can you do the honors this time?"

He rolled his eyes, but smiled patiently. "Of course."

Dawn hated cutting off a patron's supply. And, she never enjoyed dealing with surly drunks. So, it often fell to Ryan.

He headed toward the end of the bar, trying to spot the woman his mother had indicated over the sea of faces - their usual Friday night crowd.

Then he saw her, and time seemed to slow for a moment. That far-off dream was inserting itself into his waking life - particularly, the one piece of the dream he never could quite forget:

Kirsten Cohen.

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 1: The Blonde at the Bar

TITLE: The Boy From Chino  
**CHAPTER 1: The Blonde at the Bar**

* * *

He was almost in shock, seeing her sitting there at the end of the bar, hunched over a tumbler of scotch. The wife of his former attorney, the woman whose model home he burned down, and the one whose honor he tried to protect in jail, shortly before she refused to see him ever again.

Of all the details of his brief time in Newport, Kirsten had been the hardest to forget. The moment his attorney introduced him to her, he had thought she was beautiful. She had been proper and stand-offish, but the way she looked at him hadn't escaped him. She was ice on the outside. And only when he nearly collided with her in the kitchen did he see a glimmer of fire underneath. He remembered flirtatious looks exchanged over candlelight, as well as her adamant refusal to let him stay.

He also remembered the look on her face when he took the punches thrown by the cat-calling inmate, and her expression when the guards dragged him back to his cell. She looked shaken to the core. The final time he spoke with Seth, he had been apologetic when he told Ryan that Kirsten wouldn't let him visit ever again. Along with that had come the silent implication that Kirsten would not be returning, either.

"Ry?"

He startled momentarily, looking back at Dawn. "Huh? Sorry."

His mother furrowed her eyebrows, looking at him with an air of concern. "Do you... know her from somewhere?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"She doesn't look like she's from around here. Where do you know her from?"

He settled his eyes on the blonde at the end of the bar again, murmuring distractedly, "From another life," as he made his way over to her.

She didn't look up; she just kept staring down into her glass, one elbow leaned on the bar with the heel of her hand pressed to her temple, just barely holding her head up.

The fingers of her other hand were gripping the glass of scotch tightly. Carefully, Ryan reached out and grasped the glass, their fingers making contact. "Don't you think you've had enough?" he asked gently.

"Look, kid," she grumbled, "I think I've-"

And then she looked up. He met eyes with her and her growl of protest stopped mid-sentence. Did she remember him? It was obvious she recognized him, but would the haze of alcohol hinder her ability to place him?

"Ryan?"

He smiled, "Hi," using her distraction to his advantage as he gently pried the glass from her hand and stashed it on the shelf under the bar.

She blinked, her eyes a bleary, dull blue, as she sat up a little straighter and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Uh... uh, what a surprise."

"I'll say," he chuckled, watching her cheeks flush suddenly pink and wondering why.

"What are you doing here?"

She met his eyes and he watched them attempt to swim into focus. A futile effort, it seemed. He leaned against the bar, a little closer, to make it easier on her. "I work here. My mom owns the place."

One perfectly-shaped brow shot upward. "Really."

"Yeah." He leaned back briefly, gesturing to his mother. "Hey Mom, c'mere. Want you to meet somebody."

Dawn approached as Ryan turned back to Kirsten. He smiled at the sight of her reaching for the glass that was no longer there, then looking around in confusion subsequently, before finally giving up.

"Mom, this is the woman I told you about forever ago. I stayed with her family for a bit in Newport." He gestured from his mother, to Kirsten. "Dawn Atwood, Kirsten Cohen."

The women shook hands, meeting eyes briefly before Kirsten ducked hers away and corrected him, "Uh, Nichol. Kirsten Nichol."

Ryan gave her a glance of confusion at that, but didn't have time to question it as Dawn greeted her, "So nice to meet you, Kirsten. I... I feel like I owe you a few free drinks for what you did for my boy a few years ago," she chuckled.

Ryan ducked his head, tipping his eyes upward shyly to meet Kirsten's.

She quickly averted her gaze, cheeks pinking once more again. "I'm sorry things didn't really work out." She gestured to him. "Ryan is a sweet kid."

Dawn beamed at him, buckets of maternal pride in her expression. "Don't I know it," she returned, and ruffled her son's hair affectionately.

He rolled his eyes. "Aw stop, you'll make me blush," and shot his mom a look that she dissolved into chuckles over.

"Well, at any rate..." Dawn reached out and grabbed Kirsten's tab off the bar, holding it up. "Tonight's on me."

The two women bantered back and forth briefly, polite refusals from Kirsten no match for Dawn's insistence. Finally, Kirsten relented with a grateful smile.

"Thank you."

Dawn nodded, giving her a quick wink, and then nudged her son. "I'll let you two get back to catching up."

Ryan and Kirsten watched her walk off, then turned to each other, each chuckling a bit bashfully and dipping their heads. He looked up to see Kirsten shoving her hair behind her ear again as she murmured, "I really am sorry for what happened... y'know, with the-"

"Model home?" he finished with raised brows, then shook his head. "You did what was best for your family. You were just looking out for them."

"Yeah, but... in a way, you kinda did me a favor." Off his look, she smiled. "That model home project would've driven me nuts."

"Ah." He grinned halfway. "In that case, you're welcome."

Kirsten giggled, and the two of them met eyes again. Hers searched him back and forth, still glassy with the haze of alcohol, but a vivid blue. "It's good to see you again, Ryan," she said lowly. "You, um..." Her eyes traced over him momentarily and Ryan saw another glimpse of that fire he saw four years ago. "You look good."

"So do you," he murmured, trying not to let her see the attraction in his eyes. He'd always thought she was gorgeous, and had an inkling she thought the same of him. Part of him had always wondered if that was her motivation for getting him out of her house.

But he was afforded no more time to ponder that thought as a voice from the doorway suddenly drew their attention.

"Kirsten!"

He followed the blonde's gaze and saw another Newport figment weaving through the crowd toward the bar, though he couldn't quite place her.

"Julie?"

Then recognition dawned when Kirsten called to her. Of course - it was Julie Cooper, the Cohens' neighbor. Ryan vaguely remembered her polished attitude and cold glare.

"I've been looking everywhere for you! Why aren't you answering your phone?"

Kirsten glanced absently toward her purse. "Must not have heard it ringing."

Julie assessed her friend. "How much have you had?"

"'Bout five scotch-and-sodas," Ryan answered, having gotten a glimpse at the tab when his mother had grabbed it.

That was when Julie acknowledged his presence. "I didn't ask you," she snipped.

Kirsten threw her friend a look. "Julie..."

But the brunette ignored her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and grabbing her purse with her free hand. "Come on, Seth wanted me to come and find you. Let's get you home."

Ryan watched this play out, wondering if this was a common occurrence. "How's Seth doing?" he asked of Kirsten.

Julie shot him another look. "How do you know him?"

Kirsten glanced apologetically at Ryan, then gestured between the two of them. "Maybe you don't remember, Julie, but this is-"

"The boy from Chino," she murmured, nodding with recognition. Her eyes flicked over him, lip curling derisively. "Right."

Ryan couldn't help but narrow his eyes. "Nice to see you too." An image came to him, then... the girl at the end of the driveway with large eyes and dark blonde hair, and he couldn't help but comment, "Say hello to Marissa for me."

Julie seemed to bristle and startle at the same time in answer to that comment, and averted her gaze. She steered her friend sharply to the door and said shortly, "Come on, Kirsten, we're leaving."

Ryan just watched them go, wondering what he'd said wrong as Kirsten glanced at him sadly over her shoulder on the way out.

* * *

"So that was Kirsten, huh?" Dawn asked, counting the money in the register at the end of the night.

Ryan paused in the midst of sweeping up the cocktail peanuts and beer bottle labels littering the floor, leaning briefly on the broom handle. "Yeah, that was her."

"They sure make 'em pretty in Newport, don't they?" she smiled.

Ryan smirked indulgently, assuring her, "Still not as pretty as you, Mom."

She giggled, chucking a peanut at him and quipping, "I'm not giving you a raise every time you say that."

Ryan chuckled and continued his sweeping. He felt his mother's eyes on him but he didn't look up.

"You've mentioned her name before, y'know."

"When?"

"In your sleep."

He glanced up, watching her shrug, explaining, "When you used to live with me, I'd hear you through the walls. A lot of times it was gibberish, but on more than one occasion I heard you mention something about a burning house, and the name 'Kirsten.'"

"Oh." He carefully swept the debris from the floor into the dustpan, still avoiding his mother's gaze as he dumped it in the trash can.

"Nightmares?"

"Memories," he returned, wishing to leave it at that.

Predictably, his mother wouldn't let it lie. "You know, you never did tell me why you ended up in juvy that second time."

"You never asked," he replied simply with a shrug. He stashed the broom and dustpan away in the utility closet, reaching for a rag to clean off the bar.

"I'm asking now, aren't I?"

He paused in the midst of his cleaning, wondering what would be best and easiest. Telling his mother what had really happened in Newport, including the seemingly-mutual attraction between himself and Kirsten, or just giving a vague and cryptic answer. One was best, the other was easiest.

"It's kinda complicated." He opted for the easy route.

Dawn nodded. "Yeah, most stuff in life is, kiddo." Off his look, she held her hands up in supplication. "But fine... that's fine. You'll tell me when you're ready."

She grabbed the bag for the night deposit off the bar near the register and dropped a quick kiss to her son's cheek. "I'm off. Lock up when you're done, huh?"

Ryan nodded and watched his mother leave, his hands braced on the bar. When she was gone, he let out his breath, shaking his head and staring at the spot once occupied by the blonde at the end of the bar.

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 2: The Anvils

TITLE: The Boy From Chino  
**CHAPTER 2: The Anvils**

* * *

Saturday nights at the bar were, if possible, even crazier than Fridays. Ryan rarely got a moment to stand still, much less a moment to converse. He often did double-duty on those nights, not only tending bar but also waiting the handful of tables they had scattered around.

Dawn breezed by and reminded him, "Tell Ernesto to hurry with the onion rings. Table six is getting rowdy."

"Got it," he said, already on his way to the kitchen.

Once inside, he took a breath, grabbing another crate of glasses. Glancing over at the pair of cooks, he spotted them craning their necks, trying to see over the serving counter.

"Hey!" he shouted, getting their attention. "Back to work, guys, come on! It's nuts out there." He gestured to the fryer. "Ernesto, come on and get those rings goin' - table six has been waiting for fifteen minutes now."

"Sorry mi amigo," Ernesto apologized, then gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, toward the place they'd just been looking. "Pretty lady at the bar! Me and Vince ain't seen a woman like that in here before."

Ryan rolled his eyes and followed where the cook was pointing, spotting the head of shiny blonde hair immediately. His jaw went a bit slack without his conscious consent. "Kirsten."

"Ah so you know the pretty lady." Ernesto grinned. "How about I get those rings done real quick if you go give her my phone number?"

Ryan just smirked, rolling his eyes once more. "Nah, you'll just break her heart."

Ernesto grumbled a few phrases in Spanish, but Ryan just chuckled and continued hassling him for the overdue food. When he had caught up on his orders and cleaning up the tables that had vacated, he headed back to the bar.

"Hey Ry, your friend from Newport's back," his mother told him.

"Saw her," he answered, ignoring the curious look she gave him as he headed right toward where Kirsten sat, again at the end of the bar.

She was downing a vodka tonic, tipping her head back to get the last few drops in the glass as Ryan leaned on the bar. "Didn't think I'd see you again so soon," he greeted, startling her slightly.

"Ryan, hi!" She blushed momentarily, and again Ryan was left wondering why she did that in his presence. "I, uh... I felt bad that we didn't really get much time to catch up yesterday. Julie pulled me out of here so quickly..."

He waved away the apology. "It's okay, I understand."

Kirsten shrugged. "Julie, she just-"

"Hasn't changed much, from what I can tell," he finished with a wry half-grin.

"Yeah." Smiling, she ducked her head and pushed a slice of hair behind her ear. After a beat, she tilted her head and added, "In some ways she hasn't, I suppose."

Ryan leaned his forearms on the bar, frowning thoughtfully. "She got kinda weird though when I told her to say to Marissa. I mean, I know she never liked me, but she at least could've offered to-"

"Marissa's dead," Kirsten broke in, her voice soft, but heard clearly over the crowd.

He let that sink in for a moment. "What?"

"Yeah. As you can imagine, she doesn't really like to talk about it."

Still momentarily stunned by the news he'd been presented with, Ryan leaned back, trying to get his mother's attention. Briefly, he gestured that they'd be at a nearby table and she nodded, her eyes following them as they sat down at a booth in the far corner of the bar.

"What happened?"

"She, um... overdosed."

He cringed, and Kirsten nodded in response.

"On a handful of sleeping pills and a bottle of tequila."

His stomach turned. "So she-"

"Yeah." Kirsten pressed her lips together, eyes on the surface of the table, almost as if she were seeing through it. "Julie and I were at a spin class when she got the call." She shook her head. "Worst thing I've ever been through, and it wasn't even happening to me. I... can't imagine what it was like for Julie."

"And Seth? How's he taking it?"

She shrugged. "Good as he can, I suppose. I mean, they weren't best friends or anything, but he's known Marissa since he was little." Smiling softly, she looked at the table as she seemingly recalled a memory. "They used to build sandcastles together when the four of us adults wanted some time to relax on the beach."

Ryan nodded, getting an image of a curly-haired little boy and a little blonde girl playing together in the sand. Then, inevitably, his thoughts drifted to a bikini-clad Kirsten, lounging in the sun, and he was forced to snap himself out of it.

"Anyway, she... she's in a better place now. She'd been having kind of a rough time with her parents getting divorced, and her dad's financial troubles. It's just a shame that that was how she chose to cope."

* * *

Ryan spent the next couple hours in that booth with Kirsten, in between helping out behind the bar and getting food out to the other tables. He told her about his mother; how she had come to retrieve him from juvy and exerted a monumental effort to get her life together. He told her about Trey and his idea to buy the bar; how lucrative a decision for their family it had been.

And she told him about all the drama of Newport: Marissa's death and then her father's. Seth's relationship with a girl from the East coast named Anna, and Julie's affair with Luke. There was one question still unanswered, however...

"Tell me something, Kirsten," he said, handing her another vodka tonic as he slid into the booth again.

"Hmm." She took a long drink, and Ryan watched the motion but said nothing.

He just studied her, watched the way one long, graceful finger dipped into the glass, swirling the ice cubes before she brought it to her lips. "Why aren't you a Cohen anymore?"

Her shrug was full of nonchalance, but the averted gaze clued him in to the pain in her eyes. They bounced around the bar, looking at everything but him, as she replied flippantly, "Sandy didn't want me to be one anymore."

That floored Ryan momentarily. It hardly seemed accurate, from what he remembered of his brief time with the Cohens. Even when his lawyer had first been introducing him to his wife, he looked completely infatuated. It didn't add up. "But-"

"Sandy gave me a choice," she told him, a bit cryptically. "It was either him or my 'bad habit.'" She raised her glass for emphasis and a few of the pieces came together. "I chose wrong."

He watched her take another long drink of her vodka tonic, watching the ease with which she drank. He watched her hand and spotted the slight tremor, before he lifted his gaze to her glassy eyes. The behavior was easy enough to recognize. "You're an alcoholic."

Her eyes snapped to his, the look in them hardening for just a moment before she blinked it away and feigned a smile. "I prefer the term 'cocktail enthusiast.'"

"Kirsten..."

"Look, I've got it under control, okay? It's a lot better than it used to be."

Ryan's brows flew upward momentarily as he wondered how bad it used to be if this was an improvement: drinking alone at a bar miles away from Newport. "Is that why you're drinking so far from home?" he couldn't help but press. "Is that why your son had to send your friend to come and literally drag you out of the bar yesterday?"

Her eyes flashed with anger again and she downed the rest of her vodka tonic quickly, standing up on unsteady legs. "Y'know what, I didn't come here to be harassed. I'm leaving."

He closed his eyes regretfully and reached out to grab her wrist. "Kirsten, wait."

But she wrenched her arm from his grasp, threw enough money on the table to cover her tab and then some, before she took off in a huff. He watched his mother's eyes follow Kirsten out of the bar before they met his own, questioning.

He just shook his head and looked away, internally punching himself for his stupidity.

* * *

"What was all that about?"

Ryan sighed, studiously filling out their deposit slip for the end of the night. "Nothing, Mom."

"Didn't look like nothing."

At times, he hated getting stuck closing up the bar with his mother. As much as he loved her, she was too perceptive. And always ready to ask questions. "Kirsten just... dropped by to apologize for the way she left last night."

He watched his mother cleaning off the bar, raising her eyebrows. "If possible, she made an even bigger exit tonight."

"It was nothing."

"Ryan-"

"Mom, just drop it."

And, as she often did, Dawn ended her line of questioning by raising her hands in surrender and saying, "Fine, fine."

But this time, it broke him down. He huffed and tossed the pen down, slamming the cash drawer closed. "I accused her of being an alcoholic."

And Dawn's tone was all sadness as she commented, "You didn't."

He nodded. "Yeah. I did. And it was stupid, and I don't know why I did it, I just..." He met his mother's eyes. "I know the pattern when I see it. And I don't want her to go through what..." He trailed off, shaking his head and ducking it as he folded his arms.

Dawn finished the thought. "What I went through."

Ryan just looked away, jaw clenched.

She studied her son, saw the hardness in his eyes and recognized it as his defense system. She reached out, grasping his shoulder. "Kiddo... I'm okay. I came out the other side just fine."

"I know," he muttered, his jaw still tense as he braced his hands on the curve of the bar. "But watching you go through that was the hardest thing _I've_ ever gone through. I don't want that to happen again." He shook his head lightly again, voice barely audible as he dipped his head again and murmured, "Not to her."

He missed the look of confusion on his mother's face at that last comment, but she didn't question him about it. It had been a loaded statement, one that most certainly would need clarification... but she didn't press. Instead, she just took a few steps forward, leaning on the bar as she tried to recapture his gaze. "Then is it alright if I offer up some advice, free of charge?"

Ryan looked up, lips pressed together tightly as he nodded.

Dawn placed a hand to her chest. "As someone that's been through that ordeal, I'll tell you the thing that really makes you want to change is the genuine concern from people you love." She shrugged. "If you just come at it from an angle of, 'This behavior is bad and it needs to change,' that's not gonna do anything. What will really help Kirsten is seeing how much the people she loves want her to get better."

"That already happened. Her own husband wanted her to choose between him and the booze, and she chose the booze."

"Ah." She nodded. "Ultimatums aren't a great way to go either. Here..."

Then she slid a wad of money toward him. Ryan placed his hand over it and looked up, searching his mother's eyes.

"She left way too much money for her tab earlier. As much as I'd love to keep it all, it just doesn't seem right." She gave him a meaningful look. "Think you could get it back to her?"

Ryan picked up on her subtle-as-anvils hint; he nodded, pocketing the spare cash. "Sure, I'll take care of it."

"You're a good man, Ryan." She smiled, a bit proudly. "I must've done something right."

And he chuckled, "You sure did," as he silently resolved that in the morning, he would have to return to Newport.

* * *

TBC


End file.
